smk_ooc | Character Meet and Greet

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Character Meet and Greet

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"You can design and create, and build the most wonderful place in the world. But it takes people to make the dream a reality."

I. Exploring Main Street! Take a trip through a little town taken straight from 1890's America. Visit the shops, dine at the restaurants- but don't forget you are here on a mission. As an Apprentice, you will need to gather some supplies. A weapon, or tool for producing magic.

But we understand if that corn dog cart on Market Street is your first stop.

II. Apprentice Class 101! Practice your spell casting and weaponship on the open commons behind the Firehouse. Sparring, casting or just general confusion abound here. Try not to hit anything or...anyone, the paint on the infirmary is still drying.

III. Look out! A level 2 corroded monster has managed to get onto Main Street! Protect the citizens and defeat the cur, and please watch the damage, the paint is still wet!

IV. One Little Spark! Go ahead, show us the strength of your imagination and come up with your own scenarios. Just, stay out of the Corroded Lands...if possible.

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Pushed away again but this time, with the laugh and that word please spoke so wonderfully hushed, it felt more like a delightful little game than a rejection.

"Alright, alright," He would let the angel get away with it but not without a knowing smirk to let Azriaphale know that was what was happening here.

"Changing room's that way."

Crowley bobbed his head at the backroom, but stood back to allow the other man to take the lead.

"After you, your Majesty."

He smiles. "I am merely a humble principality. You won't turn my head that easily, you old snake."

But he does look pleased as he takes the...garment from Crowley that he is meant to wear. God help him. And heads back to the dressing room. He's never liked modern dressing rooms, alas. Gone were the days of tailors where you could have the room to yourself, or have them come to you! Now it was just pack yourself in a tiny room and hope you fit while trying on clothes that came in array of standard sizes and none of them were the right ones, it felt like. At least he could still get tailors this day and age but they were few and far between and here? He clicked his tongue.

Oh, well. Needs must, he supposed! He hung up the dress and went to take off his coat when he realized that there was a problem.

"Bugger."

How on Earth was he to manage getting it off with his wings in the way? They were irritatingly corporeal too and no amount of concentration could make them otherwise, not even a little.

"I am not going to cut holes in this coat to get them out!" He grumbled. "Do you hear me, you cursed wizard?"

How he was supposed to do anything was beyond him.

They were parted for mere minutes before Crowley snaked back over to the dressing cubical Azriaphale had strayed into with a cheery,

"Angel are you decent?"

And a flop on the top of the door frame so he could peer in even before he had been given the answer.

"So this plan... minor flaw really. I forgot the wings were a constant thing now."

He holds the dress against him on instinct, even though he hasn't gotten anything off yet.

"Honestly, you're supposed to wait for an answer before looking over."

He sighed and looked at the dress once more, not entirely disappointed in not having to wear it.

"I suppose this idea is out. But we have to figure out something that doesn't involve a frightful amount of holes."

Modesty. Demons as a general rule didn't worry that much about it so he snerked at the idea the angel was concerned about being caught out.

"I apologize, I forgot about that entirely."

But if that were true it didn't stop him for very long.

"New idea. We lay low for a while. A day in hiding and they will have forgotten all about it. "

Or they would have been tracked down and made to pay for the damage, either way, it's not like they could run or hide very well trapped in this bloody small park.

"So we get some wine, I met a lady down at the local pub or what functions at the local pub, anyway point is, I could call her up get a few bottles and then you and I could hide out in that horrible pink princess room. We can work out what to do about your jacket without taking scissors to it once we get there."

"I'm sure." He gives the demon a dry look, not trusting him at his word, naturally. But then perks up a bit as he continues.

"Probably a better idea." And he's much more comfortable with that sort of thing. Honestly. He did like pantomime as much as the next person but too much was too much and things were awkward enough. He places the dress back on the hanger and puts it up.

"Anyway, I never could play Wicked Queen very well," he says as he opens the door to the dressing room, pressing Crowley out of the way and pausing to look up at him, only the door between them.

"At least not in this situation..." He gives the demon a slow smirk before heading out, quite pleased with himself.

Truthfully he was more comfortable with that as well. Not that he minded costumes, they were actually pretty entertaining really. Dressing up as some one else and fooling everyone into believing that was who you actually were was an interesting way to spread a little chaos. But Azriaphale as the Evil Queen... Some how it didn't seem quite right to hide those brilliant white features.

"You're not the woodsman."

He said dryly, before following along. As it turned out getting the wine was as easy as he said a quick phone call, borrowing the gift shop's phone while the owner was busy, soon had them on their way with several bottles of decent but not above average wine and a few glasses.

Crowley's mood took a little down turn however when they reentered their flat. All peach and perfect, it looked exactly like some thing an angel would love... and maybe that was why Azriaphale seemed so much more at home here than out on those streets. He however found it a little depressing. It was just too much.

Flopping on his bed he reached for a bottle and popped the cork. Two glasses, stat, very much seemed to be in order.

Honestly he was trying to be cheeky. How can Crowley be a demon and not get a double entendre as blatant as that? it must be because they travel in such different circles it can't be helped. But, well, it's not terribly important.

"No, but I do enjoy them from time to time." Said in an offhanded way.

The worries fade as they procure the wine, and disappear altogether when they reach the room unaccosted. It's a pleasant room, to be sure. Luxurious. The decor is a little tacky, but he'd prefer it over a cot in an alley, especially with the wing situation the way it is. Anyway, they're likely to be here a week at most, if not a little less, so he's fine with it.

He sits and, after a brief moment to adjust his wings, moans a little in comfort as he sinks against the buttery velvet.

"At least it feels good if nothing else. Though I don't know how we're going to come up with enough" he makes a face. "Munny to afford it."

He started the entendre, he hadn't expected an angel to end it. That and his thoughts had wandered. He admitted that only to himself. For as Azriaphale had walked past him, temporarily trapped behind that door, the angel's wings had brushed past his cheek. A remarkable occurrence he didn't imagine would come by again without a little more coy persuasion. When they got back to that room... He told himself.

Only he had forgotten the room wasn't his nice stylishly modern flat it was that touristy one size fits all type. Depressing... They hadn't skimped on the bedding that was very true. Even if it was peach it was still soft and if he closed his eyes it might even have been comfortable.

He poured out two glasses of wine and left his perch to walk over and land next to Azriaphale, sitting on the angel's chosen bed, close to his side with the perfect pretense for it all. He handed the man his drink.

"The room's free for a while, after that... I do have a few ideas in mind."

"Mm. Thank you." He sips the wine and sighs, relaxing a little more.

"What idea is that?" He glances at the demon absently. "Nothing too untoward I hope. I won't do it, you know, and you can't convince me." Whatever it was. He was still an angel after all. But even as he spoke his voice was casual, lazy almost. It was amazing what a comfortable room could do.

And, as he sipped his wine and shifted a wing, if his feathers brushed lightly against Crowley when he relaxed again, it was hardly worth commenting on.

"Nothing untoward you." A beat. "Not about that... I could think of other untowardly things."

What was he trying to say? And this before even the first sip of wine! He corrected that by having one before he leaned back on Azriaphale's pillow like it were a back rest.

"What I meant was. I have a few ideas in mind for jobs I could do. If any of those pan out we shouldn't be hurting for money. We could live wherever we wanted to."

He had used the word 'we' more than once in there, absently, like it were a forgone conclusion that as they had moved in together once they might remain that way even when they were finally kicked out of this dump.

Edited (typo x 2) 2019-07-03 04:05 (UTC)

"I bet you could." He eyed him lying on the bed, no lounging on it more like. Aziraphale wasn't given much to sleep but at some points he could see the appeal of having to lounge next to him. He thought to comment on this but then thought better of it.

"Mm, well I couldn't let you do all the work." It wouldn't be fair and he didn't want Crowley to have to support him. Down that way lie madness and unfortunate circumstances. "I suppose I'll have to find some form of...employment as well." He made a face. "You know I only ever sold books, quite reluctantly I might add, to show some revenue for those bloody tax people. Pardon my French. They checked me five times and couldn't find a single mistake or sin." He raises his wine glass in a toast and drinks more of it.

"Of course I also have things set aside for a rainy day because you simply can't miracle everything. Not the way they go on about it." He rolls his eyes heavenward.

"Anyway, knowing your er...job types, we'll need something to fall back on when it goes..." What had he used? "Fruit shaped." Close enough. "But it won't be so bad. Hopefully we won't be here too much longer and then can go back to our routine."

That was the tragic part of all this. It may have been Azriaphale's bed but he had never spent much time in it. If he had the pillow Crowley lounged against might have smelled of the angel's distinctive cologne. It annoyed him that it didn't. And it annoyed him that that annoyed him.

He had been acting strange since he arrived in the Kingdom and discovered Azriaphale had as well. This was something he decided as the sharpness of the alcohol brought new clarity or something like that... Maybe it was just the room. Outside everything seemed optimistic and full of new possibilities, in here everything seemed very closed in, very eternal peace and tranquility. Any moment he expected a choir of angels to appear and start singing.

First opportunity and they were moving.

"Afraid of becoming a kept angel?"

Crowley nursed his drink by downing half of it and refilling the glass.

"You should have done it, left just one flaw right in the middle of all those perfect tax forms just to see if those revenue people could actually find it. They wouldn't have. I helped to invent the tax form, something so ingeniously complex that people spend half the year worrying about it and the month it's due taking out that frustration on everyone else. Even the people who are supposed to enforce the tax laws don't really understand them!"

He took that toast but only after adding an accomplishment of his own. See? He could be diabolically clever.

"Pear. It's pear-shaped." He offered some what grumpily, "And my plans don't always end up that way. There's no reason to think I won't be able to hold down a job. Might not be a bookshop where books are never sold, but I did live in an expensive flat and that wasn't all due to my demonic powers. I'm sure you wouldn't like whatever I came up with, but there is always an underground of hidden jobs... smuggling, gambling, escort services... Even in a place as seemingly perfect as this."

Oh, would you look at that! His glass was empty. This was quickly corrected as he quieted momentarily. Azriaphale was in such a rush to leave this place and get back to, what? A touch a sincerity slipped into his tone, as his concern for the angel slipped out in softly spoken words.

"We didn't have much time left when we were pulled here. Days, hours maybe. What happens if we can't go back? There maybe nothing to go back to."

"Mm." Was the only thing he could say to the kept angel comment. It just wasn't fair that Crowley should do all the work and he wouldn't be able to be comfortable just laying about whilst acknowledging it. The other thing is, well, there's a certain amount of debt entailed in that sort of arrangement, even subtly. And he's not entirely sure if he wants to owe Crowley anything. If only because the possibilities are a bit ear singeing and he's not quite stupid enough to bring them to the fore.

He's also not surprised that Crowley helped with the tax system, but can't help but feel a measure of justified pride, even glowing faintly with it, not that he notices.

"I understand it. Every single little detail and loophole. It too me a fortnight but I can quote it back to you, if you'd like. And I could have put a flaw in there, but I am an Angel and don't do that sort of thing." Besides that was very much a Seed of Evil and if it were there to be discovered, chances are it would be-- This would result in him being very embarrassed by it, not to mention facing a potential inquiry at head office where he would have to justify it.

And he could, naturally. He had gotten good about that. Though the thought makes him guilty and he has to refill his own cup after thinking it. But he doesn't want to spend any more time in head office than he absolutely has to. It's funny as he hasn't seen Gabriel in decades, almost a century in fact! But one encounter was more than enough to last him and he'd seen him at least twice now.

Also now he wanted a pear.

He sips at his wine, raising his eyebrows at the demon's list of job opportunities, none of them particularly surprising.

"Not an escort, surely." Honestly. There was tempting humans and then there was...fulfilling said temptation and he couldn't imagine Crowley knowing a mortal in the Biblical sense and didn't think he wanted to.

At the last, though, he can't help but feel the gloom-- almost fear! at the thought of nothing to come back to. That it would all be-- That Earth would be--! But he was expected in Heaven and to be a moment of their shining triumph, whatever that entailed. An eternity of Celestial Harmonies. He winced, took another long swallow.

"That's why we--" No. "I have to find a way to get back before that happens. I can't just give up. I can't just let humanity suffer because of us. They never asked for us, you know. We just happened to them and keep happening and it doesn't seem right. Sometimes I think it would be better if we weren't around at all and they were left wholly to themselves to learn and grow, which I'm sure was what the intention was to begin with. But who knows. It's ineffable." He frowned and drank more.

"And even if there's nothing left, well-- no I can't just leave. I won't abandon Heaven just like that, so stop trying to tempt me into it." Because he knew he would. "I'm going to stop listening to you if you do."

"Naturally you understand it, you've always been clever, the point wasn't to try and trick you it was to spread disharmony in those people who couldn't understand it."

And he took a certain amount of pride in that. Clever angel able to see through his plots... really bloody annoying. The angel scruples too, though he expected that. Azriaphale wouldn't have been all in for a seed of evil no matter how funny it would have been.

Crowley leaned back on his commandeered pillow to watch the angel over there judging him with his wine and his perfect white eyebrows. If he weren't so familiar with Azriaphale he might have been more offended but as he was he just shrugged before making a sort of dismissive 'aahh' noise.

"Maybe not escort. Think I can consider that more of an option of last resort if everything else falls through."

He was a demon, meant to be working towards Armageddon and the glorious final battle but he didn't care for it anymore than Azriaphale did. The thought that everything he had grown to love about that world would just be gone. No more flat, no more terrified house plants, no more Bentley or humans doing wonderful little human things. No more little bookshops... Oh look, some how his glass was empty again.

"If you say ineffable to me one more time..."

A hollow threat so it was never finished.

"I only meant we should be thinking ahead just in case we end up trapped here for longer than either of us think we will be. Are you planning on taking up their cause? Fighting for these humans as hard as you are that lot we were pulled away from?"

He can't help but beam at the compliment, feathers floofing a little though he doesn't notice. Of course he's clever. But he's also very thorough. It would take a lot to get past him. He hums, further pleased that an escort is going to be near the bottom of the list. Though he'd make a very good one.

He reached for the wine bottle the same time Crowley did, fingers brushing against the others as he took it for himself and didn't share.

"Ineffable," he said, just to tease him. He poured wine for himself and kept the bottle at his other side so the snake couldn't get to it easily. This was an action he regretted not a bit as Crowley spoke again.

"I wish you hadn't put it that way. I'm not entirely sure you didn't do it on purpose." He knew why Crowley would prefer they stay. "I can't say no, can I? After all, God is the God of everywhere." He pours himself another glass and drinks it down. He can find a way out of it if he wanted, he was sure. Justification on justification. But was it right just to leave these people behind? Was hat part of the plan?

He didn't want to fight for these people as well, but that was what an Angel was made for.

Reaching for a bottle that suddenly and cruelly was no longer there he chased after it, his arm reaching over Azriaphale's person as he made a lunge and very nearly caught the fleeing liquid but suddenly the world spun. The chase was instantly abandoned as his hand came to rest on Azriaphale's chest, a steadying anchor he used to prevent himself tumbling right off the bed.

"Oh angel..."

He groaned as his forehead came to rest on Azriaphale's shoulder.

"Be careful of that stuff... powerful."

He took a deep breath and held it as if doing so might lessen some of the vertigo.

"I only had a glass!"

The numbers were played out on his free hand. A glass had become two, or had it been three, worse... four.

"Or... several. You know, just occurred to me. If our powers are all wo-- won-- messed up, we can't just make ourselves sober again can we?"

The word 'Ineffable' brought out a low snarl but finding the power to right himself still felt a long way off to him. At least here there was that comforting scent of angelic cologne.

"I didn't have anything to do with bringing us out here. I never even heard of this place before and fighting corruption, I am corruption, not my thing, I would have chosen a vacation world with a better nightlife."

One might notice that this was a vacation world and it probably did have a nightlife but not one that impressed demons very much apparently. It was all too 'family friendly'. Probably even had 'Not-So-Scary Halloween Parties'.

"But, mind you... who says that all the time, mind you? It is an idea! If we can't stop the End Times seems like it's better to leave than to get swept away in it. I was thinking about it. Leaving. Just you and me and a whole galaxy of worlds. We could just run away together."

He was surprised at the hand on his chest, and even more-so at the forehead on his shoulder. Crowley's breath slid over his neck, sending gooseflesh all over. It didn't help either that he could feel the warmth of the demon's hand through his clothes, making his heart jump. Hopefully neither was noticed. And certainly he was glad the demon couldn't feel the warm rush of tender emotion that filled him

It was an interesting moment. Even more interesting than the er...attempts at inspiration. Something that felt so much different and rested on the edge of one thing and another-- though he didn't look too closely at either of those things.

He waved aside the faint annoyance at having to be the responsible one and not get drunk because angel and demon and so on and so forth. He even forewent the clarification that he had meant, not that Crowley had taken them here; could he even? but that had tried to guilt him into staying.

He thought about the words. Run off together. Together always had a wonderful ring to it. And helping these people, he supposed in a way, he had to be committed. Not that that would stop him from going back when he could. Earth had to take priority. It just didn't make sense otherwise. But he wouldn't tell Crowley that he was going. No, it was much safer for the demon just to stay here. And who knew? Away from hell and all the... politics, perhaps he'd be able to find something different for himself. Something more.

"Here seems a good a place to start as any." He hesitated, then reached up and stroked the back of Crowley's neck, but lightly, not sure how the gesture would be received and not wanting to ruin this moment...whatever it was.

It had been an attempt to guilt him and Crowley would have been absolutely unrepentant about it if in his intoxicated state he had picked up on what was meant instead of veering wildly sideways. Guilt him, ask him, apologize to him, whatever it took to prevent the angel from being a uselessly well-meaning but ultimately ineffectual idiot and getting himself caught up in that bloody stupid war. They had influenced the wrong child, been unable to find the right one, and now what... There was nothing left. The forces of Hell would find out he had screwed up, they would have come for him and it would only have been a matter of time before Heaven came for Azriaphale too. Here they might well have been out of reach. Safe. Both of them. Shame about the Earth but there was nothing else they could do.

The hand touched his neck and his thoughts instantly shifted. He was being odd again. He tried to tell himself it was only the wine but he knew there was more to it. The intoxication he felt came as much from the angel as the drink. It dawned on him slowly that his hand was on Azriaphale's chest and... he opened his eyes only to see the gentle curve of Azriaphale's throat. This was... he should really move away shouldn't he? That was what the hand was about to do wasn't it? Give him a friendly nudge right before the words were spoken, something like, 'Hadn't you better lie down?' Kind but dismissive.

Only that wasn't what happened at all. He agreed. Actually agreed! Good a place to start as any! And the hand moved not to push him aside but to stroke his neck, sending all those little short hairs back there into a tango. His breath escaped in a contented sigh that sounded very nearly like a hiss, the closest a snake could manage to a cat-like purr, but his mind still stumbled over the concept that it could have been as easy as that.

"Wha... what?"

Must have misheard!

"Did you just agree with me?"

"Mm...I rather believe I did." And, since Crowley seemed to enjoy the touch, he continued, more sure this time, stroking through his hair too. It was incredibly soft and he wasn't sure which he preferred more, the gentleness of his hair or the smooth warmth of his neck. The hissing sigh was well worth it though and he wondered what other sounds he could pull from the serpent.

"You might have the right idea. After all... I do sometimes get tired of always having to do the right thing." The truth was always easier than a lie, and the might had a weight to it without explicitly agreeing. There was nothing to be caught up in here.

"And it could be fun." He let his fingers drift over Crowley's temple, gently smoothing the hair back from it, tracing his ear, lingering over the snake curling there.

This was dizzying. Azriaphale agreeing with him, giving him hope that there might just be enough wickedness in the angel to allow this. The worst part was that Crowley totally believed him. Everything the angel said about starting over here and having the right idea for once wasn't questioned for more than length of beats between the angel's swift heart. Logic could eventually win even an angel over, there was nothing to say it couldn't, and he could get tired of doing the right thing. Why not? Sometimes he grew tired of doing the wrong thing!

Happily oblivious to the very thin line Azriaphale tread between truth and lie oftentimes called the 'sin of omission' Crowley allowed himself to relax. Dropping some of the guarded nature the wine hadn't already done away with to close his eyes and allow Azriaphale to comfort away his concerns.

"I thought I would have to work on you longer before you would agree."

Really this was the only brief suspicion he held.

"Glad I was wrong."

His hand slid just slightly under the lapel of Azriaphale's jacket, but no further as this seemed a rare moment even to a demon. One to be savored and not ruined with a sudden rush of feeling. Cuddling, humans called it. He couldn't say he had ever had a good cuddle before. He rather liked it.

"Annnd... we don't have to stay here forever. We could move, find some place by the lagoon or..." Were there other places in the park? "Some where inland." Had to be. "You'll see, it'll work out."

It was rare, this moment. Rare and exceedingly precious. There were no diamonds that could compare or misprinted books either. It was a moment as sweet and delicate as a chocolate truffle. And he was using it for his own advantage. To do the Right thing. With a capital. The only thing he could do. He didn't understand why the Right thing always seemed to feel a bit wrong. Like betrayal. Like abandonment. Perhaps it was his own failing for feeling so deeply for a member of the opposition, and to allow them to feel so deeply for him.

He hummed and wrapped his wing around him, slipping his other hand around him to stroke hie back, resting his cheek against the soft hair. Though that a demon could even feel this emotion, strong and pure and strangely uncorrupted-- it gave him an odd sort of hope. Though he couldn't quite explain it what he was hoping for.

"I suppose I'm just tired." Which was also true. "It's this place, I expect. Doesn't quite go as easy on our mortal forms as we'd like." And he would be even more tired to go back alone...to stop the end of the world or-- he supposed, to fight in the Last Great War.

At least he wouldn't have to fight a certain demon. At least that would be safe. A little secret treasure locked away.

"So long as we're in walking distance of the best restaurants, anywhere will be fine." Within reason. "I'm almost starting to believe we can actually do this."

And he is, which is even harder because he knows what he must do, regardless of what they manage to build here.

That was a delightfully soothing sound that hum. Much like a lullaby but lighter and betraying feelings he couldn't say he really understood. He assumed it was easier for an angel. Their entire existence was all about light and emotion. Azriaphale could probably set a name to this feeling and hold no doubts about it whatsoever. Crowley found himself puzzling over it like some half-remembered fragment of memory. It was a little daunting but being a creature of doing what feels the best and damning the consequences he saw no reason to end or prematurely move away from what was beginning to feel like the most comfortable place in the universe.

His dark wings neatly tucked behind him as the angel's white ones move to embrace him and he nuzzled the angel's cheek with the top of his head... Which he would claim was only him adjusting position if he should have been called out for it.

"I don't think it's possible to be out of walking distance there is only the one road."

Speaking softly as he tried to mental map the place. It was tiny for a city, very 'small town America', that also explained the hot dogs being sold by nearly every street vendor. Americans loved them. He hoped for angel's sake they did have more fitting restaurants hidden some where. It wouldn't be the Ritz, but they might have sushi.

Azriaphale just being tired was easily believable too. This place did have a way of wearing on a formerly immortal being. Crowley gave a light grunt of agreement, arching just slightly into those back rubs.

"Yeaa... Forgot all about that when we started this. Used to be able to drink all night."

Silk was it? Nah, maybe not, but it was soft. Gentle like a worn in old sofa, but elegant. Suddenly fascinated by Azriaphale's shirt Crowley's hand wandered over its surface, just rubbing the fabric as the angel had his back.

"But you can rest now. There's nothing here to worry you."

He certainly had nothing to fear from the serpent coiling up beside him.

Inasmuch as he was anxious about the future, it was starting to fade, melt into the moment-- brush of his hair, the restlessness of his hand, the startling warmth of his fingers. It was all a welcome distraction.

"Perhaps you'll just have to build up a resistance again." There was something mellowing about drinking. Not that he should be encouraging this sort of thing. But if it allowed this well...it couldn't be completely horrible. He absently moved his hand up under Crowley's wing, massaging the joint there to see how he would like it.

He smiled at the idea of nothing to worry about. There was plenty to worry about. Corruption to fight for one thing. Spells to learn. Worrying about the mortality of their bodies that seemed to require sleep and could get hurt by flying rubbish bins.

"If you say it, I'll believe it," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head, smelling his hair, closing his eyes. "Despite all evidence to the contrary."

The wing twitched reflexively away at the touch, like it had chanced too near fire and didn't wish to burn, but soon settled back into the angel's hand. It did feel wonderful. Over the centuries he had been to many a massage parlor, they had been all the rage in Rome, but he had never had his wings done. Would have defeated the purpose of taking human form if he had suddenly whipped them out and given the whole game away.

He ought to have been more guarded but wine and angel conspired to make him sigh quite contentedly as he drifted slightly further away from wakefulness.

"There can't be that many werewolves."

Crowley wasn't worried, not a bit! In this moment there felt like there was nothing at all in the full entirety of the universe that he needed to worry about. There was no Armageddon, no massive loss of humanity, no Corruption, no Heaven or Hell... there was just them.

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